How to Take Care of a Baby
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: Ziva offers assistance to Tim when he gets stuck baby-sitting. Implied McGiva. Hangman prize for EmyPink!


The cries that echoed from within the apartment could be heard as Ziva neared the door. Tim hadn't explained what he needed when he'd called; he had simply asked her to come as quickly as possible. She could hear that the cries were those of a child and she couldn't imagine what lay in store for her as she knocked on the door.

A harried looking Tim answered. Upon seeing her, he closed his eyes and sighed in relief. "Thank you for coming," he gushed, stepping to the side so that she could enter. Tim wasn't in his own apartment, but rather the apartment beside him. It had the same layout as his apartment, though, and coming from the bedroom was a ghastly cry.

"The woman who lives here broke her arm and had to be rushed to the hospital. She doesn't have family near by, so I was asked if I could watch her daughter," Tim explained as he led Ziva in to the room. "She's been fed and she's been changed and…and she won't stop crying!" He looked wearily down at the baby girl in the crib. Her body and face were scrunched up as she wailed. "I don't know what to do, Ziva."

"And why did you think I would know what to do? Because I am a woman?"

Tim looked down sheepishly, indicating that her gender had indeed been a major factor in his calling her. "You also live the nearest to me."

Ziva glanced down into the crib. The baby had not stopped crying for a moment since she'd entered the apartment. Her face and body turned pink as she rolled back and forth, kicking her legs about. "Have you tried picking her up?" Ziva suggested.

"Ah…well, no. I was kind of afraid that I'd hurt her."

"Oh, McGee!" Ziva shook her head. Gently, she picked the crying baby up and held her against her body. The young baby rested her head against Ziva's shoulder and began quieting down. Her hand went into her mouth and she softly sucked against it, allowing her gums to gnaw against the limb. "Babies sometimes need reassurance that you are there."

McGee was so relieved he could kiss her. "Thank you, Ziva. I thought she was going to have a mini heart attack from all of her crying."

"Here. Take her."

Tim's eyes widened and he backed away as thought Ziva were offering him a bacterial-infested rat. "No, no! You're doing fine with her."

"McGee, I cannot hold this baby all night. Now take her from me."

He hesitated for a second before offering his arms out. Ziva placed the small body in his hands. Unlike Ziva, Tim held the baby out, away from his body. It didn't take long for her to start whining once again, her pink pajama encased legs kicking back and forth.

"No, no, no!" Ziva scolded. "You cannot hold a baby like that. Hold her against you. Support her with a hand beneath her rear end."

Tim did as he'd been told and soon the baby had once again calmed down, now resting her head on his shoulder. Soft little gurgles reached his ears. He glanced down and saw her wide eyes looking up at him in wonder. It was strange to feel a warm, tiny body against him.

"Now, that is a pretty, little picture," Ziva said, a small smile playing on her lips. The sight of Tim holding a baby girl was sweet…almost sweet enough to cause a toothache.

"I guess I'm not very good with babies." Tim's body was tense as he felt soft breaths against his neck and a tiny heart beat pounding against his torso. "I think they sense my fear."

"Did you not hold your little sister when she was born?"

"No. I was still pretty young when Sarah was born. By the time I was old enough to look after her, she was four." The baby girl shifted in his arms and he stopped, waiting to see what she was doing. When her head fell back upon his shoulder he let out a breath.

"I think you are better with babies than you think. You just cannot be nervous around them."

Tim was about to respond when he heard the baby burp and felt an oozing liquid land on his shoulder. She started to cry once again and Tim looked at Ziva with a deer-in-headlights look. "Ziva?" he asked uncertainly.

"The baby must have spit up a bit." She took the crying infant from him and nodded toward the door. "Go change your shirt and get a washcloth."

Tim left and Ziva situated herself in a small rocking chair, cradling the young girl. She rocked back and forth slowly as the baby continued to cry. "It is okay," she whispered. "You are okay."

It had been a while since she'd last held a baby, but it felt very natural to her. Of course, one could chalk it up to maternal instincts, but Ziva knew it took more than that to properly care for an infant. You had to have both patience and confidence. You had to assure the infant that he or she was safe and that things would be fine.

Tim reappeared moments later wearing a new T-shirt and carrying a clean wash rag. "Here's the washcloth," he said as he handed it over. He glanced at the baby warily. "She's still crying, Ziva."

Ziva gently ran the washcloth against the baby's mouth, cleaning the spittle from her lips. "Yes, McGee, I can see that."

"What's wrong with her?"

"She is a baby, McGee," Ziva told him in exasperation. "Babies cry. Rather than staring at her as though she is an alien, why don't you try to calm her down?"

Tim squatted down. "Hey…it's okay, baby…it's okay," he repeated over and over in a less than confident tone. When his words did nothing to help, he grabbed a small stuffed panda from the floor and held it up. "Look! Look at the panda!" He began to make the stuffed animal dance, dancing it along the chair's arm and along Ziva's leg. "Look at the dancing panda!"

As the panda neared her face, the baby began to calm down, watching in awe as the black and white furry animal danced before her face. Her tiny hands reached out, though she couldn't quite grasp it. Ziva plucked it from Tim's grasp and held it against the infant's body. The baby girl, in turn, rested her head against the panda's belly, closing her eyes.

"See there, McGee? You _are_ good with babies."

Together, the two brought the now sleeping baby back to her crib and laid her down. The panda was placed directly beside her and a small blanket was draped over her small body. She was asleep, finally, and Tim was ready to fall into the soft cushions of the sofa. They tip toed out, softly closing the door behind them. All was quiet.

"So what is her name?"

"Whose name?"

"The baby's, of course."

"Oh, I don't know. My neighbor keeps pretty much to herself. I didn't even know she'd had a baby until a couple of weeks ago."

He fell onto the sofa. Ziva stood awkwardly beside him, not sure if she should stay or if Tim could handle it from here.

"Would you like to sit, Ziva?"

"Should I? Stay, I mean."

"If you'd like to. I would certainly appreciate the company."

With a smile, Ziva sat in the place beside him. "So how long is your neighbor supposed to be gone?"

"I don't know…I guess however long it takes to set a broken arm." Tim flipped through the television channels, hoping to find something worth watching, or at least something that would fill the time until he could get back to his own apartment.

Ziva reached out and grabbed the remote from his grasp. Tim watched uncertainly as she clicked the television off. "Perhaps we should not watch TV and risk the possibility of her waking up."

"So we should sit here in silence?"

"Not quite." Ziva leaned in, grinning as her hands fell upon Tim's chest. "I think I may have a suggestion on how to pass the time."

* * *

**The End!**


End file.
